the sword to my shield
by Aquarius Galuxy
Summary: In Nagare, where a mystery figure attacks them with jet-black arrows, Fai refuses to pull his weight on their demon-hunting team. [KuroFai, 3 parts]
1. Part 1

**Spoilers:** the whole of TRC - is there anyone who hasn't read the entire series yet?  
 **Warnings:** if you're picky about a story adhering closely to canon - this is not one of those. I hereby mash canon into applesauce.

 **Notes:** _This was inspired by SM Reine's concept of_ kopis and aspis _(Descent series)_ _, that is, sword and shield, in which one is a warrior and the other is a witch. Also featuring lots of family stuff, Fai helping Sakura deal with her period, Mokona unable to store anything, and KuroFai._

 _Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle and its characters do not belong to me._

* * *

 **the sword to my shield**

 **(Part 1)**

"Why the hell are you following me?" Kurogane snapped. He hefted his sheathed sword and jerked his head to the side, glowering at the willowy twig of a mage lagging two steps behind.

Fai shrugged, smiled his inane smile, loping easily on the smooth concrete sidewalk. "Why shouldn't I follow you, Kuro-puu?"

"Because," he snapped again, "You won't fight to save your life. And you won't use your goddamn magic, so I don't see how you're doing anything worthwhile by following me."

In this world so like Outo, they had to work, and pair up in groups of two to earn their keep. Syaoran was Kurogane's choice partner by default; the boy had taken ill ever since they arrived in Nagare, however, and the princess had stayed behind to care for him. It wasn't as if he would be much help attempting to fight when he couldn't even see straight.

Which left the idiot as Kurogane's last resort.

(The robot-like lady at the sparkling marble town hall had very helpfully mentioned that, No, he couldn't fight alone. All fighting teams had to comprise of a Sword and a Shield.)

"Ow, that hurt, Kuro-tan," the blond sang, pulling a face. He pressed a thin hand to his chest. "Saying things like that isn't nice, you know."

Kurogane glowered. "Are you going to wield magic, then?"

Fai smiled obliquely, glanced away. "Well," he replied, twirling on tiptoes down the sidewalk, as they passed two-storied brick homes that seemed to be all around, with their shale-tiled roofs and square white windows, and neatly-trimmed hedges that separated them from one another. "I don't know, this world isn't so great for my magic, you know—"

"Don't give me that crap," Kurogane cut him off. "That woman said a magic-user is most effective as a Shield."

"But she didn't mention how using magic here would hurt, would it?" the mage countered deftly. He twirled away again.

 _Lies and more lies._ Kurogane growled.

"Just as well that I don't need to rely on you for protection," he muttered. It was something he'd already decided anyway—he wasn't Tomoyo's best warrior for no reason.

Fai didn't show any sign of having heard him. They moved along, each lost in his own thoughts. 

* * *

When the first attack descended, it was brutal and ruthless.

Kurogane sensed more than heard it—thin lines of black streaking towards them, deadly in their aim, and never-ending. He flung himself to the side, barely avoiding lethal hits, and the weave of his clothes sizzled.

But the barrage did not stop there. More arrows whistled at him; he rolled onto his feet and leaped backwards, unsheathed Souhi in a hiss of metal. This was nothing he was unfamiliar with—adrenaline pumped hard and fast in his veins. He grinned, senses reaching out for the next attack.

To his surprise, the black did not fade away upon contact with cement and asphalt. Instead, the arrows smeared across the pavement in a way similar to putty, and pulled away from the ground immediately after, like shadows pinched from an inkblot into reality. When they flew back at him, they were faster than before.

Kurogane swore, flung himself to the side, and rolled away from yet more arrows coming at him from above. Gut instinct warned him against having Souhi make contact with the tar-like projectiles—this limited his moves to energy-charged attacks, and he hadn't wanted to show his hand so soon after arriving in this new world.

"Hyuu, Kuro-sama's doing great over there!" Fai called, waving both his arms in the air. There hadn't really been time during the onslaught to care how the mage was faring. Which was just as well, since he was still in one piece.

"Don't just stand there, you slacker!" Kurogane shouted. He wasn't even going to comment on those ludicrous gestures.

Between dodging the tar arrows, he scanned the too-bright sky for signs of their assailant. It was difficult to discern anything, especially when the cloaked figure launching the arrows was standing with its back to the sun.

But that suddenly became the least of his concerns, because the arrows developed a mind of their own.

They were all hurtling towards Fai.

And he was just standing there, staring at all of them.

"Fucking mage," Kurogane roared. He bounded towards the other man, swinging his sword in a wide arc. " _Hama ryuu-ou jin!_ "

Fai seemed to regain his mind and senses in that moment, when the whirling attack rushed at him and decimated the army of tar arrows. He leaped upwards easily—a split second before the cutting winds landed where he had been.

"Grow some fucking balls!" Kurogane seethed, following hot on the heels of his attack to adopt a position between Fai and the figure on the roof. Just who or what was their opponent?

"Wai!" Fai clapped appreciatively behind him. "Kuro-wan to the rescue!"

"You're a fucking embarrassment of a Shield," the ninja grit. "If it weren't for how much the kids like you, I would've killed you already."

The applause ground to a stop at those words; the man fell silent.

"If you're a mage at all, at least do something instead of standing there, for fuck's sake," Kurogane continued. "We're here to do a job, not fucking slack off."

"It isn't good for me to use magic," Fai said quietly behind him, in a tone he'd never used before. (Was that some shred of honesty?)

"Well, too bad," he retorted. The air was muggy and thick around them, oppressive, and the occupants of the brick buildings (if there were any) were making themselves scarce. "I don't care about what's good for you or not. You refuse to lift a finger to help, and that's stupid selfish."

Fai remained silent.

There was a final attack, albeit a half-hearted one. Kurogane shredded the arrows with a sweeping counter; by the time the winds died down, the figure against the sun had disappeared, and all was quiet around them.

"Damn it," Kurogane muttered, "Nothing goes right around here."

The blond had started to walk away from the scene, hands linked behind his head, a mild expression pasted across his face. "Kuro-chii is so very sensitive, isn't he?"

"You can't fool me, mage," Kurogane growled, stalking forward to catch up with his cripple of a partner. He'd long decided that there was no point in trying to get the twit to address him by his proper name. "You're more than capable of casting the spells that a Shield is supposed to, I know it. If you know how to send yourself to that witch, then you damn well know how to draw up a defense."

"Ooh, Kuro-rin knows so much about magic!" Fai tittered. Something had flashed across his eyes, something dark and reeking of old pain, and Kurogane felt a surge of triumph at breaking through that stupid facade.

He could be merciless if he wanted to.

"It has to do with your magic," he pressed. "Hence your desperation to play it down. Your magic has hurt you before."

Fai stopped walking, in the middle of cozy brick homes.

Kurogane drew to a halt, turned to faced him. "I'm right, aren't I."

Sapphire eyes glinted. The smile had frozen on the blond's face, and he was standing very still. An instant later, he'd made his mind up. "We should be hunting for demons, shouldn't we?" he asked with false cheer. "The children are waiting for us back at the house."

It was enough of a reason for them to keep walking.

"Your entire attempt to make us think you don't do much magic," Kurogane began ten paces later, "Is to prevent us from relying on you. You're trying to distance yourself from everybody."

There was that flicker again, through impossibly blue eyes.

He decided to push harder. "Whomever you hurt with your magic, mage, it was a disaster."

Fai gulped; his stride faltered. He glanced away, towards the apple trees in someone's backyard. "Why are you doing this, Kuro-tan?"

"You think we can't see through your lies." Kurogane cut a look towards him, suppressing a sudden, inexplicable urge to grab the man by his arm, by his chin, to make him meet his stare. "You reek of untruths."

"And you absolutely loathe people like me," the blond answered quietly. He lowered his gaze to the sidewalk. "Why even bother, Kuro-sama?"

"Because." It was the beginning of a tirade, and he paused. There were two paths he could take from here: to leave the man well alone, or to find out just how thoroughly the mask could be broken (and whether _he_ could break). Kurogane chose the latter. "You treat your life like it's worthless—"

Fai parted his lips, on the verge of saying something, but no sound issued forth.

"Like you don't know there'll be people affected if you died." Kurogane scrutinized him. "Or maybe you do, but you choose to run away. You're a fucking coward, is what you are."

A dry smile. "I didn't deny being one, did I?"

Something snapped in him; cannonballs of anger flared hot through his gut. He clenched his fists. "There were people who must've died for you." (Fai flinched.) "Yet all you want to do is throw your damn life away. Don't their sacrifices mean anything to you?"

"Stop it, Kuro-chan," Fai mumbled, dipping his chin so his hair fell forward, hiding his face. "This has nothing to do with you."

"This has everything to do with me if you're planning to drop out of this journey and leave the kids alone with _me_ ," Kurogane spat. (Because deep down, he really didn't want to deal with the too-sincere boy and the princess who was warm and kind. Fai was the one who got along with them. Kurogane was _rubbish_ with kids.)

"Oh?" The mage perked up then, his smile edged with desperation, and Kurogane wanted to grab his head and tear that grin off. "Will Kuro-rin be sad if I died?"

"Whether you die or not doesn't matter to me," he groused. How the hell had the confrontation turned into this? "But I'll be damned if you chose to die for some stupid fucking reason—"

"Do you think we should have cake for dessert tonight?" Fai had started walking again, completely ignoring Kurogane. "I think I saw apples on sale when we passed the market—"

In two steps, Kurogane had caught up with him and grabbed his skinny arm, spinning him violently around with hardly any effort. Wide blue eyes flickered to meet his. "If you think for a moment," he breathed, lowering his face so it was inches from the blond's, "That you can avoid talking about the crap you're running from, mage, you're even more of an idiot than I thought you were."

Fai blinked. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Why, I—"

"Learn to pull your weight," Kurogane barked, tightening his grip so the other man winced. "I don't care about your past—"

"Then why are you asking all this?" A thin line formed between slender golden brows; Fai stared at him.

"Why I mentioned your magic?" Kurogane said slowly, deliberately. "Just how powerful it is, and the people you've hurt with it?" (The blue gaze skittered away.) "Are you so afraid of using it because you're afraid it'd hurt more people? Or because it'll allow your past to catch up with you?"

Fai inhaled sharply. The answer was there, in that breath. "Let me go, Kuro-wan."

Kurogane relented then; he wasn't a bully. But the discussion wasn't over, not by a long shot, and especially not if he was still going to have to fight for both himself and the mage. "This isn't over yet," he muttered, "I'm still watching you."

"I know." Fai rubbed at his arm, where Kurogane's fingers had left angry red marks. He made a face, wore a pout like one would wear a hat. "You should treat others better, Kuro-pipi. That hurt."

Short of yelling and calling the idiot out on his stupidity all over again, there was little else that Kurogane felt inclined to say. He grunted and brushed past the man. "Whatever. We have work to do." 

* * *

The princess was fidgeting by Syaoran's side when they returned late that night.

Fai, as he always did, saw this as an opportunity to flee from the ninja, hurrying across the bedroom with a smile and wave. "Good evening, Sakura-chan!" he called, "How are things with you and Syaoran-kun?"

Her brow furrowed; the wrinkle was deeply shadowed in the orange glow of the bedside lamp, and Fai couldn't help feeling a little twinge of concern.

"Syaoran is sleeping, but, Fai-san..." she trailed off, looking helplessly around the room. (He noticed then that their other companion was missing.) "Moko-chan, she... she fell ill too."

(It had been established early on that there wasn't a feather in this world, but Syaoran had fallen ill right after they landed, and they'd decided to stop for however long they could here so he could recuperate. Who knew what the next world would be like?)

"What happened to her?" he asked warily. If both Mokona and Syaoran were down for the count, then he only had Sakura left as buffer against the big, growling thing that was Kurogane. And he wasn't going to think about that. "How can Mokona even fall ill?"

There had to have been a strong magical influence, to disrupt something as magic-infused as their fluffy white friend. Yet, it hadn't been powerful enough that Fai could sense it when he and Kuro-rin were out hunting.

"I don't know." The princess swallowed. She glanced at the far wall, which demarcated the other bedroom, and wrung her hands. "She said the magic here felt funny."

Kurogane made a strangled sort of noise by the doorway; Fai pretended not to hear it. "Was there anything that helped make her feel better?"

Sakura shook her head jerkily. It worried Fai, this uncharacteristic restlessness—the girl looked a little paler than usual.

"Sakura-chan, are you feeling okay yourself?" he asked, kneeling down beside her and laying a hand on her folded ones. Her fingers were cold. What had happened while he and Kurogane were out?

She pulled a face. "I'll be fine. But you should take a look at Moko-chan, Fai-san, we can't really move from this place..."

There was a splotch of crimson on her skirts when she rose from her seat. An injury? No. The girl didn't look to be in pain. The bleeding that women routinely underwent? Maybe. Blood on Sakura jarred his nerves nevertheless, and Fai smoothed his features into a concerned smile. He stood, touched his fingers to her shoulder; she paused, looked back at him in question. "Sakura-chan, your skirt..."

She knew to glance downwards, and gasped in dismay when she saw the stain. "I— This is really all my fault... I asked Moko-chan if she had some rags in storage, and she— Oh, Fai-san, it's horrible!"

"Shh, it'll be fine." (Things would be fine when they didn't concern him.) Fai took her hand and smiled comfortingly so the tightness in her face eased, before leading her towards the doorway, where Kurogane had been watching the proceedings with a frown. "Would you like to go to the bathroom first—"

"No, that can wait," the princess decided, taking a deep breath. She glanced at Syaoran; the boy was sound asleep. "Fai-san, you have to look at Moko-chan, I can't explain why she did that..."

He followed her to the next room, leaving a wide berth between himself and Kurogane, who had backed off from the doorway to allow them passage.

The other bedroom was a mess.

Where the first bedroom had been sparsely furnished, with furniture like twin beds, tables and chairs taking up some space, this second bedroom was crammed with all sorts of things—notably, things from their travels that they had been accumulating.

Clothes of all designs were strewn everywhere, on books and preserved food and jewelry and precious stones—things they had found to be valuable in previous worlds, that could possibly be sold for currency in the next world. There was some shattered crockery around, and Kurogane's manganyan were flung to the corners of the room. Closer to the doorway, things had been neatly piled up, as if someone had tried to tidy the mess, and given up midway.

Fai winced, stepping into the bedroom. "Mokona?" he called softly, nudging things aside with his feet. "Where are you?"

A little muffled whimper sounded from the bed.

"I tucked her in," Sakura explained desolately. The green of her eyes was oddly dull. Fai rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. "She wanted to be in this room in case there were more things coming out."

Fai winced—it had to have been lonely for the chatty little creature, surrounded by all sorts of inanimate things in a too-big room. "Let's get you out of here, Mokona."

Slowly, he waded the short distance to the bed, around musical instruments and a stork-like lamp, with the princess following close behind.

"Fai!" Mokona cried the moment he straightened a leaning pile of books and rounded it, so there was nothing else between him and the bed. "Mokona feels terrible!"

He made a face and gathered the little creature into his arms, holding her close. "Are you feeling better than before?"

She nodded into his chest. "There was a strange magical wave that passed through a while after you and Kuro-pon left. Mokona felt like throwing up, so Mokona ran in here."

"There, there," he consoled, "You'll feel better with the rest of us around, won't you? Sakura-chan has been really worried about you all day."

At the mention of the princess, the creature turned to look at Sakura. "I'm sorry, Sakura, I couldn't find any rags."

The girl lifted her hands towards Mokona; Fai handed her over, watching fondly as the princess cradled their companion against her chest. "It's fine, Moko-chan. Don't worry about it—I'm sorry for making you reject all the things you've stored—"

"It's just bad timing, Sakura-chan," Fai interrupted. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her back out towards the door. "Don't blame yourself either, okay?"

She looked uncertainly at him.

"But Sakura needs the rags, doesn't she?" Mokona asked in a subdued voice.

"We'll go out and get some," Fai told them simply. "As soon as you're ready."

"But the shops are closed now, aren't they?" Sakura pointed out, frowning again. "We can wait until tomorrow—"

"If it'll help you feel more comfortable, Sakura-chan, we should do that as soon as we can, shouldn't we?" he smiled at her again, watched as the uncertainty melted away from her face. "We'll let Kuro-daddy take care of Mokona and Syaoran-kun."

"Don't call me that!" Kurogane snapped from the doorway.

Fai blinked; he'd almost forgotten that the ninja was close enough to listen in on their conversation. It didn't matter, though. He allowed his eyes to slip shut, and smiled stupidly at the larger man. "Is Kuro-puppy volunteering to stay home like a good daddy?"

Scarlet eyes flashed; Fai pressed closer to Sakura. Kurogane wouldn't attempt to hurt him while he was standing with the princess; that much he was certain of.

"Anyway, most places are closed at this time, idiot," the ninja muttered. He raked Fai over with that too-piercing gaze. "Let the princess sleep - you can head out early tomorrow that way."

Fai looked to Sakura for her opinion. She considered Kurogane's suggestion, then nodded. "Kurogane-san is right," she said softly. "Besides, both of you are tired. I can manage for another day or two."

Looking at the princess filled his ribs with something akin to pride and warmth; Fai smiled at her and ruffled her hair. "Then we'll head out first thing tomorrow," he told her quietly. "But no later than that! We can't have you waiting, right?"

She grinned at him, eyes lit with gratitude. "Thank you, Fai-san."

It was a good day when he could concern himself with the troubles of others, instead of his own. 

* * *

As fate would have it, there was a burglary attempt on their lodgings in the middle of the night.

Kurogane had been the first awake, ninja that he was; Fai stirred soon after. (They had both been dozing lightly in the hallway.) By then, Syaoran had sat up blearily in his bed amidst the noise, trying (without much success) to discern the source of the commotion. With Kurogane distracted in the cluttered bedroom, the onus had fallen on Fai to dissuade Syaoran from joining in the fray—Kuro-daddy had got it covered. (Syaoran returned to sleep very much reluctantly.)

Thus, it was a while later that Fai joined Kurogane in the mess of a bedroom, two windows broken and no thugs in the house.

"It's all the damn things we've got in here," the larger man muttered, crimson eyes flicking about the room. "Valuables shouldn't be stored in plain sight."

"So we should draw the curtains shut, shouldn't we?" Fai smiled. He picked his way through the chaos of things strewn across the room, clicking his tongue at the shards of glass on the hardwood floor. "Kuro-rin, get me the broom and dustpan."

"You can do that yourself, idiot," Kurogane bristled. He turned on his heels, ready to stalk back out of the room.

"Ah, but Kuro-tan is the one who broke some of the things in here," Fai informed him reprovingly. "And we don't want the children to hurt themselves walking on glass."

That, if nothing else, swayed the man. With an irate grumble, Kurogane stormed off, and returned (some bumps and crashes later) with the requested implements.

Fai flitted across the room for them. "What a good doggy," he praised, taking the broom and dustpan _before_ petting the other man on the head. "I always knew that Kuro-chi was the most responsible family man—"

He skipped promptly away to avoid an annoyed swat to his head. Really, the mess in this room should be tidied before anything else got broken.

"Kuro-sama, stack up those things by the door, if you please," Fai sang. He set the broom and dustpan aside, and bent over to carefully pick the scattered belongings off the floor. (It was much easier to tidy up when things were out of the way.)

Silence rang from the direction of the door. Curious, he turned, with his hands full of folded wooden fans—and spotted Kurogane whipping his gaze away, to the other corner of the bedroom. Red crept up the olive skin of his neck.

 _Oh?_

Fai raised an eyebrow, said nothing.

For a few minutes, he focused on moving things away from the broken glass. Perhaps this misfortune was a blessing in disguise—tidying this mess would force them to take stock of their entire inventory, which had become a jumbled collection over the various worlds they'd visited. Of their little traveling group, Syaoran would probably have the most interest in cataloging their entire hoard—the boy was a born librarian.

"Kuro-rin," he began, "If Syaoran-kun wakes up late in the morning and Sakura-chan and I aren't around..."

Kurogane was staring at him. Again.

"What is it?" Fai straightened with a frown, vaguely uneasy. Was Mr Big Growly about to launch into another tirade? Or was he looking at some clump of dirt on Fai's pants?

The larger man glanced away, clicked his tongue. Was he annoyed at _himself?_ "You should have a solution to prevent burglaries. You're a mage."

"What does magic have to do with any of this?" Fai asked, tilting his head to the side. "Surely you, with your big sword, are a more effective deterrent, Kuro-pon."

"I'm not always going to be in this house, and neither are you," Kurogane pointed out. He folded his arms across his chest, leaned against the doorjamb. "With the kid and the pork bun sick in bed, the princess ain't gonna be able to defend this place by herself."

He was right. It was a worrying thought, but Fai wasn't going to let the other man know just how much it affected him.

"Well then," he said with false cheer, waving dismissively. "We'll just ask Yuuko-san for a solution."

"You're a fucking mage," Kurogane hissed, brow creased. Crimson eyes punched holes right through him. Fai really did not like how Kuro-rin was the one person who kept doing that. "And you're supposed to be a damn Shield in this world. Surely it isn't that difficult to create some stupid wards for the house."

"It's not that easy, you know." (Not easy to circumvent using his magic, but possible.)

There was enough space beneath the first window for the floor to be swept, now. Fai grabbed the broom and dustpan, clearing the redwood floor with smooth efficiency.

Kurogane narrowed his eyes. "The Tsukuyomi in Nihon maintains wards over the entire country. This is just one building, idiot. The magical energy required to set up a ward here is negligible."

Negligible, but still a risk. Any drop of his magic that was left in a world could be a beacon to Ashura-ou—something Fai would really rather not consider.

"I'm sure Yuuko-san has an answer to this," he informed the ninja lightly, drawing curtains over the window before heading over to the next patch of broken glass. There were some fragile porcelain dolls that had been smashed along with the window panes. Fai made a face; those had not been easy to acquire. "Fix the windows when you can, Kuro-rin. The landlord will charge us more if he sees that the windows are broken."

"They wouldn't be broken if you'd set some damn wards up in the first place!" Kurogane returned irritably. "You should be the one to repair—"

"But you have more experience with fixing things, don't you?" Fai angled a brilliant grin at the man. "You made Chu'nyan's roof all good again when we were in Koryo."

The larger man bristled. "Acquire the materials first, then."

"I knew Kuro-daddy would do it!" Fai lilted, flapping his hands about. "Kuro-tan is so capable and strong!"

Kurogane snorted and stalked away in disgust; Fai relaxed his arms, waiting until the ninja's soft footfalls faded away down the stairs before he allowed his cheerfulness to fall away. The dimension witch had a way of asking questions that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

All the same, if she had something to keep the children safe while he and Kurogane were out hunting...

In silence, Fai cleared the shards away from the second window, drawing the curtains when he was done. The glass pieces tinkled into the trash can; Fai set the broom and dustpan down by the doorway, and padded softly into the room the kids were sharing with Mokona.

The little creature stirred when he picked her up carefully from Syaoran's side. Fai stroked Mokona's round head to reassure her, headed just as soundlessly back into the other bedroom. As a precaution, he glanced down the hallway, and shut the door behind himself.

"Mokona?" he whispered with a gentle smile, after he'd seated himself on the bed and crossed his legs. She rolled over in his cupped hands, squinting up at him. "If you're feeling well enough, I'd like to talk to Yuuko-san."

Mokona nodded; the red gem on her forehead glowed, and the dimension witch turned to look at him in her circular projection.

"Yuuko," Mokona greeted tiredly, "Mokona isn't feeling well."

"Is that so?" Yuuko frowned, leaning a little closer. She was dressed in an intricate yukata that Fai hadn't seen on her before. "Go to sleep, Mokona, I'll talk to Fai if you leave the communication link open."

The fluff-ball nodded and curled up; Yuuko trained her hooded eyes on him, deceptively lethargic.

"How are things there, Fai?" she asked, looking between him and her creation.

"Yuuko-san," he acknowledged, smiling politely. "My apologies for bothering you—we're in the country Nagare. It's kind of like Outo country, where we hunt demons to make a living. Both Syaoran-kun and Mokona have taken ill though. Syaoran first, and Mokona just earlier today. I suspect the cause to be magical interference of some sort, at least for Mokona. Kuro-pon, Sakura-chan and I are doing well, however."

She nodded. "Mokona will recover soon enough. And your request?"

"Well..." He hesitated. "Because Syaoran-kun isn't feeling well, Kuro-pin and I are the only ones working. Sakura-chan stays home to care for Syaoran-kun, but now that Mokona isn't able to contain our possessions, we've been concerned about the threat of attacks on the house while Kuro-tan and I are away. I wish to have some sort of barrier for the house, at least until Mokona is well again."

The witch considered his words for a moment, looked steadily at him. (Fai wondered if she knew all his secrets—probably not.) "Like in Koryo, you should be able to handle this yourself, shouldn't you?"

"I wish to avoid using my magic, if possible," he said quietly, lowering his gaze. "What will the price be?"

She looked at him for a long while. "I may be able to grant wishes, Fai, but think about this: are you always going to come to me for help doing things you're capable of accomplishing yourself?"

He opened his mouth to speak, then paused. "I... don't know."

Probably.

"I will not always be around," she continued, lifting a thin, long pipe to her lips. Smoke curled indolently from the little bowl at its end. "And you may not always have the chance to contact me in times of emergency. So I'll ask this of you: Do you really want me to grant this wish?"

Fai bit his lip. There was an alternative to this request, a tedious one that would not require his magic, or Yuuko's help. The witch's question had compelled him to account for the unknown future, in which he might be forced to sell his meager belongings for things that he might desperately want. For the children's sakes, if nothing else.

"No," he answered eventually, "I suppose not."

"Then our conversation ends here." Yuuko exhaled and smiled at him, smoke curling around her like a shroud. "I'll see you again, Fai."

He was left staring into space when the projection faded out. The room was suddenly too quiet; Mokona remained asleep in his hands, her side rising and falling in time to her breathing.

Looking at the creature, Fai was reminded of that lazy afternoon in Outo, when she had told him that he could smile and be happy, and no one would blame him for it. (Yes, yes _Fai_ would.) It was so very strange how he had grown so fond of the little thing, the only one of their group who smiled and played right along with his teasing Kurogane, to the extent of making up pretend-conversations with their voices. He never expected...

Fai got to his feet and padded back to the children's room, tucking Mokona softly back next to Syaoran.

It was still hours from dawn, but he'd need all that time to work, if he wanted to finish the wards before anyone woke up. 

* * *

In the end, Kurogane had caught him when he slipped back into the house, leaves stuck in his hair from climbing ladders and poking his head past tree branches to affix his wards on the exterior brick walls.

"What were you doing outside?" the ninja growled suspiciously, watching from the couch as Fai paused in front of a mirror and picked the leaves off himself.

"Looking at birds," he sang, smiling wide. "And you left before I finished my sentence, Kuro-wan—if Syaoran-kun feels better today, I think we'd all benefit if he could do an inventory of the things we had in storage."

"Tell him yourself," came the short response.

"You're such a spoilsport, Kuro-rinta." Fai pouted. He blinked back his fatigue (the runes for those wards had been minuscule), instead heading into the kitchen. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Anything but that sweet crap you keep insisting on making," Kurogane said, his voice a little muffled by the walls.

"But you've been eating it anyway," he countered, hid a smile. There were fruits and eggs and butter in the fridge, and flour and sugar in the kitchen cabinet. Perhaps pancakes with a side of apples?

"The pork bun shoves it in my mouth!" Kurogane protested. Fai heard when the man came to stand in the kitchen doorway, a solid presence in his peripheral vision.

Maybe he should make a little extra, just in case the children grew hungry later in the day. "Well, I haven't seen you stop eating after the first mouthful," Fai pointed out; a sharp smile played on his lips. "Kuro-pin is really hungry in the mornings, isn't he?"

The other man made a noise somewhere between a snort and a grunt. "It's still too damn sweet."

"But everyone else likes it," Fai reminded him. He assembled the ingredients for pancakes in a mixing bowl, liberally pouring a cascade of sugar onto the pile of flour.

"Oi! Is that sugar?" Kurogane yelped.

He slid the ninja a feline grin. The sugar was still flowing into the bowl. "If it is?"

"That's more than enough!" Kurogane snapped, glowering at him. "You call yourself a cook?"

"I call myself a _good_ cook," Fai returned, finally halting the deluge of fine white crystals. "Sakura-chan, Syaoran-kun and Mokona all like my food."

A rude snort was the only answer he received. "They're too polite to say they don't," Kurogane added after a while, "And we're going to fall sick from all that sugar."

"You could always make your own food, Kuro-puu," he answered slyly. "But I think you don't really know how to cook."

The large man sulked in silence for a while. (Fai looked, he definitely was sulking.) Outside, the sun was rising, and birds had begun to chirp. It didn't take long to whisk the pancake batter together; while the butter melted in a frying pan, Fai set a kettle of water to boil, and began to rummage through the fridge, humming to himself. Tea would really take the edge of his weariness, and he was looking forward to it.

When Fai looked back at Kurogane, surprised by the silence, he caught the man looking at his pants _again_.

He frowned. "Is there something I shouldn't be wearing?"

Shades of dark red crept up the man's neck; he sputtered and turned away. "No. Just cook your damn food, idiot."

Fai blinked at him, gave a vague grin. "Are you going to sit and watch me the entire time?"

"No," Kurogane snapped. He turned away. "I'll be in the back doing some kata." 

* * *

By the time Sakura was awake, even the invalids of the house had managed to swallow some food.

Fai smiled when she hurried into the kitchen, wide-eyed and running fingers through her ginger hair. "Morning, Sakura-chan! Pancakes?"

"Good morning! I'm sorry I woke up late! Have you been waiting long, Fai-san?" she cried breathlessly, setting herself on a stool with a muffled _thump_. "Yes, please, I would like pancakes."

He shook his head and grinned at her, preparing a plate of still-warm pancakes and cold, sliced apples. "It's not too bad. I had Big Doggy over for company, and then I brought Syaoran-kun and Mokona breakfast in bed."

The princess looked utterly mortified. "I slept through all of that?" she squeaked.

With a flourish, he slid the plate onto the table in front of her. "Don't worry—both of them said that it was fine to let you sleep. In fact, Syaoran-kun looked better today, I think!"

She smiled in relief. "I'm glad to hear that. Syaoran-kun was asleep when I woke up."

"Tea?" Fai set a clean cup next to her breakfast, brought the teapot over. Sakura nodded; he dispensed some of the steaming beverage, and set little jugs of sugar and cream next to her teacup.

"Thank you, breakfast looks delicious!"

He settled into the seat across from her, propping his chin in his palms as she scarfed her food down. "Well, I'm glad you like it," he said. "Everyone but the growly dog seemed to."

(Elsewhere in the house, Kurogane sneezed.)

Laughter bubbled from the girl's throat; she looked sheepishly at him. "Kurogane-san doesn't like it when you give him all those names, Fai-san."

He smiled at her. "But he hasn't complained for some time now, has he?"

Kurogane hadn't. They shared a grin, the sort that was an unspoken secret between them. Clone or otherwise, Fai really liked this girl—she was warm and cheerful and very much non-judgmental, so unlike the fierce ninja they traveled with. And despite how her previous relationship with Syaoran had suffered, he was savoring how the two of them were growing ever closer through the difficulties they faced.

It was so much easier to smile around Sakura; she made him want to smile—her cheer was infectious, and she helped Fai not think about many other things he could otherwise be brooding over.

"As soon as you're ready, we'll head out," he told her lightly, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "Do you think there's anything else you might need?"

Sakura shook her head. "Just the rags, or cloth, whichever we can find."

"Only the best for the princess," Fai informed her. He wouldn't dream of leaving her with tattered pieces of cloth, not when they could afford better.

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read and review! :)_


	2. Part 2

_**Summary:** In which Kurogane sews a bleeding cloth for Sakura, and Fai uses magic when he said he wasn't going to._

 _This is where the exciting things begin... at least, they're exciting to me. ;) Thank you to all of you who left a review on the previous part! :)_

 _Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle and its characters do not belong to me._

* * *

 **the sword to my shield**

 **(Part 2)**

They were out on the streets a while later, with window measurements from Kurogane (handed over with much disgruntlement and muttering), and a short shopping list. Like in many other words they visited, the town square was where most shops were located—from bakeries to produce shops, to florists and appliance-sellers, all tucked neatly behind shopfronts of brick and glass. Since it wasn't market day, however, the place was rather empty, with just a few townsfolk doing their shopping this early in the day.

"How have you managed to get by since we began travelling, Sakura-chan?" Fai asked curiously. It hadn't really occurred to him that she would have such a need—the rest of their traveling group was male (Mokona was not subject to human bodily functions like the monthly flow)—and in-between all the fighting and mystery-solving of the different worlds, there had been more than enough issues for them to be concerned about.

The princess blushed and shrugged. "Come to think of it, I haven't bled since we started this trip," she said thoughtfully, "I'm just glad there was a memory about bleeding in one of the feathers—I would have been so surprised otherwise."

"I'm glad for that too," he agreed, casting his sights about for some sort of clothing shop, or a place selling fabrics. Had the wave of magic yesterday triggered the girl's bleeding? "What did you use to deal with the blood? I'm afraid I don't have much experience with this occurrence," he mentioned with a grin that was almost a grimace.

Sakura frowned in thought. "Well, in Clow Country, we used wads of cloth or rags. My... bleeding has never been consistent, though. The nanny I was with, she said that women bleed monthly... that was never the case with me."

Now that they were moving between worlds so often, it was difficult to track the passage of time, Fai acknowledged. "The women in this world should have their own way of dealing with their bleeding, don't you think?"

The girl brightened, emerald eyes lit inquisitively. "But where would we go to find that information?"

"Any woman would be able to tell you, I think," he answered with a grin.

One encounter with a plump, smiling lady later, they found themselves in a medicine shop of sorts. It wasn't quite a medicine shop, per se; there were all sorts of products on the shelves, from medicines, to shampoos and soaps, to supplements and cosmetics. The man at the counter was dark-haired and dark-eyed, and looked very familiar.

"I don't know what I'm looking for," Sakura whispered to Fai. Her eyes had glazed over at the sheer variety of things on the shelves.

"Ask Touya-san?" he offered, glancing towards the guy manning the register.

"No!" Sakura mumbled, cheeks flushed a bright red. "I know he's not the same person, but... it's just weird, asking my brother about something like that."

"We can't spend forever in this place, you know," Fai reminded her with a smile. "He'll get suspicious. I'll ask him."

The girl squeaked behind him, though he was already striding towards Touya, bright grin pasted on his face. (Somehow, in the worlds he existed, Touya always seemed to wear the plainest, dullest clothes he could find.)

"Excuse me, we're looking for something for a lady's... bleeding?" he began cheerfully. "Could you please tell me where I can find that?"

Touya looked at him with a deadpan expression, glancing briefly at Sakura. "Pads, or painkillers?"

Fai blinked at him. Did the princess require painkillers as well? "Both, I think," he said, just in case.

"Pads are on the aisle right at the back," Touya answered with a jerk of his chin. "Painkillers are further down the aisle."

"Thank you!" Fai smiled brighter, and turned towards the girl. "Come on, Sakura-chan."

Once behind the aisle, he bent a little closer to the blushing girl. "Do you need medicine for the pain? I'm sorry, I didn't know it hurt," he told her apologetically, face falling.

She smiled and shook her head. "Don't worry, Fai-san. It doesn't really hurt for me. I have cramps sometimes, but not often."

He allowed his shoulders to droop in relief. (They really should have acquired all these things earlier, so they weren't left wanting after the fact.) "You looked very uncomfortable yesterday, though."

Sakura shook her head again, emphatically. "I'm feeling fine today, Fai-san." With a smile, "Let's look at what the women in this country use."

The supplement of choice looked to be long, oval padding of some sort, mostly in shades of pink and white.

"Can you read this?" Fai whispered, pointing at the writing on the packages of plastic.

Sakura frowned. "I can't," she said dismally. The flush on her cheeks deepened. "Syaoran-kun is the one who can read different languages."

They brooded over the prospect of asking Touya to read aloud the wordings on the different packages to them, and (Sakura) balked.

At length, Fai decided to compare the different bags of padding. "It seems that there are some which are longer than the others," he said, looking at diagrams on one package. "Which size do you think you might need, Sakura-chan?"

She made a face and scrutinized the different designs and brands, and finally decided on one. "I... think this might work."

"Well, to be safe, we should ask Touya-san to read it to us, don't you think?" Fai suggested, tapping his chin with a finger. Sakura squirmed next to him. When they were back at the cashier counter, he smiled brightly at this version of Sakura's brother again. "Excuse me, we aren't really from this place... Could you read the writing on this package to us?"

The princess looked as if she might faint on the spot. Touya glanced between the two of them, mildly bewildered, so Fai waved his hands to try and bring his point across.

"We just need some important information about it," he said blithely, "You know, things like the size, the material, whether it can be washed..."

Touya stared at him. "These are meant to be disposable."

"Oh." Fai felt his grin slip a little. Disposable things meant that they had to keep spending money on them, and purchase a stash, in case they ever ran out. "Well, that's fine."

"Fai-san," Sakura said in a small voice next to him. "It's okay, we don't need that."

His brow furrowed. "But it's for your comfort, Sakura-chan—"

She shook her head; he bent his knees and leaned in so he was closer to her height, setting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry so much," he told her with a soft smile, "Give it a try—we don't have to get more if you decide that you don't like it." When it seemed as if she would protest further, he offered, "We'll get the cloth too, so you'll be able to decide which you prefer."

The princess seemed to be swayed by that, and eventually nodded, dipping her chin. "Sorry for the trouble, Fai-san."

"It's not a big deal," he answered, straightening to pay for the package. "All of us—Syaoran-kun, Kuro-pon, Mokona and I want to see you happy, you know."

It was a low blow, perhaps, but Sakura smiled at him. "Thank you."

* * *

Two hours later, they were done with shopping. (Fai had somehow convinced Touya to explain how exactly one used "pads", as they called it in this world. Sakura had blushed to the roots of her hair, and Fai wondered if most men in Nagare knew information like that.)

"I think that's all we need for the next two days," he remarked, looking between the paper bags they cradled in their arms.

They had found a fabric shop easily enough; Sakura expressed an interest in white cotton. From its texture, Fai could tell that it was lightweight and absorbed moisture easily—a material very suited for clothing in a hot world. Thus, he had bought a little more than they needed, in case the time came when they had use for such a material. (Thankfully, they hadn't been to a desert country like the princess described... yet.)

"And we've ordered the glass for the windows," the princess added, glancing at the receipt tucked in her paper bag. "I'm glad we don't have to carry it back between us!"

Fai grinned at her. "Same here, Sakura-chan."

Most of the things they'd bought were for sustenance—without knowing when exactly they would leave this country, none of them were keen on stocking the pantry or fridge especially fully, hence the need to purchase food every couple of days or so.

"What would you like to have for dinner?" he asked suddenly, going through the contents of their kitchen in his mind. "We have sausages, and some chicken..."

"You make anything taste good, Fai-san," Sakura beamed. He smiled back at her.

"I'm just glad you like my cooking," he lilted. "You know, I can teach you how to cook the things I've been making, just like in Outo."

The girl perked up. "Really?"

"Yup!" Fai smiled. "Plus, it really helps to have an assistant in the kitchen!"

(It would help because then he wouldn't have to keep thinking about depressing things.)

The attack came so suddenly that Fai was caught unawares, until it was almost too late.

He grabbed Sakura by the elbow and twisted her sharply to the side, so black streaks narrowly missed hitting them both. Inky, hissing puddles formed on the asphalt and concrete; Fai frowned. How were there attacks so early in the day? He hadn't forgotten the wave of magic from yesterday; was this yet another world in which Seishirou was attempting to control the demonic forces?

Kurogane had mentioned the figure behind the arrow attacks; Fai spotted it some ways off, on the roof of a building. It raised an arm again, and he knew with glaring certainty that another wave was about to be launched.

Two options: stay and fight, or run.

He shoved his paper bag into Sakura's arms with a murmured apology. "You know the way back to the house, don't you, Sakura-chan?" She nodded. "I need you to run all the way back without stopping to worry about me, okay?"

Her brows drew together, concern glittering in her eyes. "But Fai-san—"

"Go!" He made a grab for a tree branch hanging low over the sidewalk and tugged on it; it snapped under his weight. Fai brandished it in front of him, hard pressed to keep up any semblance of cheer when the princess was in danger like this. She took off with a patter of shoes on concrete.

The wave of arrows descended; he waved the branch to catch any going in Sakura's direction, nimbly twisting away from the arrows aimed at himself. Unlike the black tar that bounded off the road yesterday, these ate into leaves and twigs with an ominous sizzle.

Fai glanced towards the princess, running backwards where he could to keep up with her. More projectiles flew at them, covering a wider area so it got harder to protect Sakura—there was still some distance between him and her, and he couldn't reach all the arrows in one fell swoop.

One arrow did get past him, landing dangerously close to Sakura's feet, and his ribs tightened.

His heart thundered in his chest; these tar arrows were made of magic, and there was little he could do to stop them, save for attacking their wielder head-on, or casting a wall of defense.

But if he could distract their attacker by diverting all their attention...

With a last look back at Sakura's retreating figure, he dashed forward when there was a break between the waves of arrows, down the pavement towards the figure standing on the roof.

 _Are you always going to come to me for help doing things you're capable of accomplishing yourself?_

Fai gritted his teeth when another volley of tar arrows flew at him. He swung the tree branch in a wide arc—the inky streaks caught and clung and burned, but there was a couple that flew through the gaps in the leaves, one grazing the line of his shoulder. Pain seared into his flesh; he gasped, pressed on regardless. If he could have the figure focus all the arrows on him...

Their attacker raised both arms right then. Fai braced himself for a blast of an attack—but what streamed out of the figure's hands was a swooping mass of black that headed straight into the distance, where Sakura probably was.

His gut constricted. He didn't think then; all he knew was to fling the branch aside and carve bright purple runes in the air with a desperate finger (no, no, he could be the one injured but no one else would suffer because of him—)

The runes sliced through the air towards Sakura, not quite fast enough to catch up with the headway the figure had gained in the space of seconds. He began to run, this time away from the figure, pushing all his magic into the point of his finger. Fai grit his teeth, forcing his limbs to move faster, runes from not-so-long-ago pouring into his mind, the most powerful defense he could conjure for a princess as important as Sakura.

He made it in time—barely, as the violet of his magic swooped in front of the black and repelled it just as it was about to take a sharp downward turn.

There was the bone-deep _ping_ of the spell as it wound around Sakura and sealed around her, forming a resonance. Fai turned away from her, confident of her safety now, and lifted his arm to deal with the figure that had caused all this in the first place.

But the figure had vanished into thin air, like it did yesterday.

Fai growled in frustration, adrenaline coursing through his blood. He surveyed the street—it looked rather normal, even then. The tar stains had somehow faded away, and the breeze rustled through tree canopies on either sides of the road.

He had used his magic.

The realization struck like a heavy blow to his stomach; he thought about Ashura-ou, and _I will follow your magic through worlds_. He thought about the crimson blood on his foster father's hands, the death he had yet to execute, the sleeping man beneath deep pools of water, and trembled.

He had to remove the traces of magic. Chii would inform him if Ashura-ou woke, but what if she was unable to?

Fai gulped. Tried to breathe. He half-stumbled, half-jogged to where he remembered seeing his defense spell, and his knees weakened at the sight of Sakura, deep green eyes staring at him in distress, trapped in the dome that was an elegant weave of thick, impenetrable swirls. He had to get rid of the spell, now.

Jerkily, he made his way over to her, pressing his hand to the metallic surface of the protective dome. It melted when he sent a brief command into it, all curls lifting away from each other, sucked backwards into his open palm in the wink of an eye.

"Fai-san," Sakura gasped, falling forward, burdened by their two paper bags of shopping. "You're hurt!"

He blinked at her, only then looking down at himself. The cut on his shoulder was bleeding, oozing sticky blood down his shirt, but he wasn't thinking about that. There were still traces of his magic in the air here, and it was a damn beacon to Ashura-ou. They had to leave _(now now now)_ , or he had to find some way to remove the faint scent of cinnamon that he could taste on his tongue, that wasn't detectable to all but magic users like himself.

"S-Sakura-chan," he whispered, raking his eyes over her face. "Are you hurt?"

It was a miracle that his voice was still steady, when he was scared, so damn scared. (What if Ashura-ou came for him, what if he brought Fai, what if—)

"I'm fine, Fai-san, you protected me—" The princess paused abruptly, her eyes wide with concern. "But I thought you weren't going to use your magic..."

He gulped and attempted to smile at her, but his face was frozen. "I— I was worried about you," he told her, clenching his fists so he'd stop shaking. "Let's not mention this to the others, okay?"

Sakura frowned at him. "But you saved me from an attack, and you're hurt."

Fai bit his lip, wiping at his shoulder so it would stop bleeding. (It didn't.) "I'll be fine. Let's get back to the house first, okay? It's just a small attack. We'll have Kuro-rin take care of the attacks next time— You know, I think if Syaoran-kun is awake, it'll do us a great lot of good if you and him could sort out the mess that Mokona has been storing for us..."

He took his shopping bag back from the princess and distracted her with an incessant flow of chatter, to the extent that she was back to her smiling self by the time they reached the house. He was even able to grin widely again at that point.

Kurogane took one look at them and narrowed his eyes.

Fai continued his chatter, smiled blandly at him, before following Sakura to the kitchen. "Why don't you give the pads a try, Sakura. I'll put the groceries away and rest for a while, and we'll attempt to make those cotton things for you later tonight."

"Will do," she answered, beaming, though that slipped when her gaze returned to the cut on his shoulder.

He stopped her before she could say a word. "I'll take care of this right after," he said, pulling the plastic bag of pads out of their grocery bags. "All right?"

"Okay," Sakura replied reluctantly, glancing back at him before she headed out of the kitchen.

Fai supposed that his luck had to run out at some point, when Kurogane stepped in two seconds later.

"There was an attack to the east ten minutes ago," the ninja told him without preamble.

He could tell that Kurogane was watching him carefully for a reaction; he kept his face blank, and raised his eyebrows. "Really? What did you see? It's just like Kuro-rin to be so observant—"

"I saw black, like the attack from yesterday, and there was purple next to it."

The man was glancing at his shoulder; Fai emptied the paper bags onto the kitchen table, setting the glass receipt and the bundle of cotton aside. It was when he began storing the potatoes that Kurogane spoke again, "Where were you when the attack occurred?"

 _Right there, Kuro-tan._ "Um, I think we were to the west," Fai said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

"Don't give me that crap. The market's to the east." Kurogane folded his arms across his (wide, wide) chest, pinned him with his crimson stare. "Where were you and the princess?"

"Safe," Fai told him defiantly. He lifted his chin a little, refusing to back down.

The other man studied his injury, still bleeding traitorously. "The last time you were injured, we were in Outo, fighting oni. Before that, it was the Kishiim."

"Hyuu, Kuro-pin has such a good memory," Fai sang. He grabbed a few cans off the kitchen table, shoved them into the pantry.

"Both times, the injuries were from something you were unable to dodge while fighting."

Fai shrugged, ignored the man leaning against the kitchen wall. He tucked the fresh vegetables into the back of the fridge and put the herbs away—his work here was done, and he really needed to find a way to erase those traces of magic...

"It was just a tree branch, Kuro-wan," he tittered, stepping towards the kitchen doorway, leaving as much space as he could between himself and the ninja. "Should I be flattered that you're so concerned—"

A large hand shot out, grabbing his arm, and Fai found himself spun around to face Kurogane. Red eyes bore through him; he swallowed.

"You smell like cinnamon," Kurogane muttered.

Shock almost bowled him over; his mouth fell open. Only magic users could detect magic—yet he had definitely not sensed an ounce of magical energy on the ninja.

"We were at the market, Kuro-rin, there were herbs everywhere. Did anyone attack the house today?" he asked, in a feeble attempt to divert the other's attention. Kurogane nodded. "Did they get in?"

"No." Kurogane released him then, leaving warm imprints on Fai's arm. "But not for lack of trying."

"Oh," was all Fai could get past his lips. (The wards had worked, then.) "Well, I'm sure your scary face was enough to make them stop."

The look Kurogane gave him told him that he clearly thought otherwise. Fai swallowed, turned to go.

"My mother was a miko, a shrine priestess," the ninja said quietly behind him. "She always smelled different after she used magic."

Fai didn't dare acknowledge his words when he finally stepped out of the kitchen, but his heart was thudding loud enough that he was sure Kurogane could hear it anyway.

* * *

The second bedroom was still cluttered when he shut himself in it. Thankfully, the prying ninja had not bothered to follow him in; this would have been difficult to explain. Fai picked his way over to one of the broken windows, carefully lifting the curtain aside to survey his surroundings. Around, the neat brick homes were intact and pristine as ever, and people wandered down the street, watering their gardens or whatever it was that they did.

The important thing was that he didn't sense any sort of interfering magic, or feel any malignant presences. That was enough for now.

Quickly, Fai crossed the room to where he'd set a roll of parchment paper on the bedside table. This was one of his baking supplies he'd stored with Mokona; paper though it was, it was waterproof, and he had drawn the building wards on this material because of its durability.

For runes to absorb magic, though, the material they were written on would have to be prone to being drenched, so the runes could bind magic to themselves and the writing material... And that was if he even knew what he was doing. There had been no books on Celes about removing magical traces—that, and he had not needed to hide from Ashura-ou until he began this journey.

Fai winced at the memory, fished a hand-sized notebook out of a pile, and sat himself against the side of the bed.

It really was one thing to work with runes... And another to work with runes to make them draw upon the life forces of the things around them. Already, the trees and plants around the building were beginning to wilt, just a little; he had instructed the wards to absorb and use magical and physical energy from attacks on the building, if they occurred. Add that to the permissions he'd written, the intricacies of energy storage, the exact life forms the wards could draw living energy from, as well as a token invisibility spell, there really had not been much space to write at all. Fai was very thankful for the invention of ball-point pens... as well as tea. The creation of these magic-absorption sheets was going to be yet another tiring endeavor.

He had painstakingly written out three iterations of spells when the door opened suddenly behind him.

Fai subdued his flinch and turned to face the intruder, stretching his lips wide in a smile.

Kurogane chucked an open envelope at his face. "Oi. Read that. The town council legalized a new level of Sword-Shield partnership."

With a frown, Fai grabbed the envelope (that had landed on the floor, after he tilted his head to dodge it) and pulled the thick stack of material out. Garbled strings of nonsense stared back at him. "I can't read this."

The ninja scoffed and strode over, tugging the papers back out of his outstretched hand. "On the first page, it reads, 'Blood bonds now legal for all levels of Sword-Shield partnerships.'

"'After 11 months of public discussions and various comprehensive studies, the Nagare Ministry of Employment has ascertained that blood bonds between Swords and Shields are not detrimental, contrary to previous announcements. In this letter, you will find various materials on blood bonds, a list of which is on Page Two of this document. Blood bonds are hereby declared legal starting from—'" Kurogane stopped reading and looked back at him.

Fai felt his forehead crinkling. Blood bonds? They had only been in Nagare for a few days, and had hardly interacted with other Swords and Shields enough to catch wind of the controversy. Worse, what kind of disadvantages did that bond have? He had a sinking feeling that it would involve giving Kurogane access to more of his mind than he really preferred.

The larger man stood over him, waiting for a response. Now that he wasn't reading, those crimson eyes were wandering onto the torn pages from Fai's notebook, looking at the runes with narrow-eyed suspicion.

Fai flushed and shoved the pages away, out of sight. He really had to be working on recapturing his magic, Ashura-ou could be— "What are the implications of the partnership?"

Kurogane's gaze pierced him. (Could he see how Fai was waiting for him to leave? Could he see the fatigue and lingering fear that Fai was trying to forget?) "Energy-sharing. Constant awareness of your partner. More of feelings than thoughts. Depending on blood, our attack strength could increase. Tied life lines, which was why it was illegal until now."

"That means I'd die if you do?" Fai asked wryly. It didn't sound as bad as he thought it might be. Kurogane didn't strike him as someone who'd die easily. "Are there other disadvantages?"

"It's permanent."

He drew a sharp breath. A permanent bond wasn't something he wanted to share with Kurogane, even if it lasted only in this world. He could even put up with the other man feeling his (stupid) bouts of fear, but Kurogane catching the emotional residue from his nightmares, from trying to fix the traces of magic in this world... There wasn't any privacy _at all_.

"No," Fai told him flatly. "I think you're strong enough, Kuro-pon, we don't need some nonsense partnership when we've been doing just fine with the demons—"

"What was that you were writing?" the ninja interrupted. "On those pieces of paper."

He wanted to hide, but there was nothing he could shield himself with, save for a smile. "Just drawings, you know, I thought we could have some pieces of art hanging around the house, don't you think?"

Fai realized his mistake just as Kurogane said evenly, "Let's see them, then."

The grin that erupted on his face was thousand-watt, and brighter than the sun. "Oh, no, Kuro-wan, you'll just tear them up like a bad puppy, you know? They aren't done yet!"

"I won't tear them up." The ninja stepped closer, large feet making no sound on the hardwood floor.

"Why don't you go see if Syaoran-kun is feeling better?" Fai babbled, inching away from the other man, his heart racing, trying discreetly to tuck the notebook and pieces of paper under the bed. "It really is more important than seeing a few worthless drawings!"

"Why don't you go check on the kid yourself?" Kurogane countered, ruby eyes glinting. "Surely a few 'worthless drawings' are going to be fine by themselves here."

He swallowed hard, wondering if there was any way he could leap over the bed with minimal damage. The other man had the distinct advantage here—he was on his feet, and would be quicker than Fai trying to get any momentum going in this mess of a room.

And all this time, his magic was lingering around out on the streets, waiting for Ashura-ou to come find him.

The wave of panic was back. Fai snatched his notebook and papers, clutched them in his arms, and shoved himself to his feet, barreling straight into Kurogane's chest to knock him backwards. The larger man stepped back in surprise—things crunched beneath his feet, probably possessions that would have got them a hot meal in another world.

Fai didn't have time to feel sorry about the loss. He had to get out there and remove those traces of magic (would the three spells be enough?) and maybe the wards on the house would accept them as magical energy to be consumed... He twisted to leave—

A strong arm snaked across his arms and chest and yanked him backwards, into a solid wall of warmth.

"Mage," came the low growl in his ear, "You're up to something."

He gulped, darted his gaze around the room to find an escape. Perhaps he should've made the wards capable of flight, so he could have just thrown them out of the window... "You're seeing things, Kuro-chi," he chirped in a higher pitch than usual. There wasn't any point in struggling—the ninja possessed way more brute force than he did. "One would think you're hallucinating, perhaps—"

"You used magic for the princess's sake earlier," Kurogane said quietly, and Fai tensed. "It wasn't even for yourself, or you wouldn't have got hurt."

He could feel the other man's heartbeat in his back, powerful and sturdy, like an anchor, like something that could protect— "Really, Kuro-rin, do you know what you're saying?" Fai mumbled unevenly. "You should probably let me go, you know, what if the children see this—"

"They're all resting." Fai had a moment to wonder at how Kurogane cared enough about them to know (how the ninja never failed to surprise him), and then he felt the other's breath against his scalp, soughing through his hair. "You put yourself at risk to save the princess. Your magic will have your past catching up with you, and you used it for her sake."

"Let go of me, you brute," Fai protested, struggling so Kurogane wouldn't feel the way his heart was pounding in his chest. "Or are you hugging me because you're secretly interested in me, Kuro-pipi?"

The man dropped him like a rock then, and Fai didn't glance at him. All he was concerned with was getting out of that room, away from the suffocating air that Kurogane carried with him. He had to finish those new spells—hopefully his magic hadn't scattered by now...

(If he had turned back, he would have seen the discomfiture on Kurogane's face, edged with horror and embarrassment.)

* * *

Fai finished a total of five wards, and patched both himself and his shirt up before searching out the princess. (The little bits of first aid he'd picked up over the years came in handy now and again, even if he would never be capable of working miracles in healing.)

Sakura glanced up from her sentinel by Syaoran's bed when Fai knocked on the bedroom door. "Fai-san!"

He smiled at her. "How are Syaoran-kun and Mokona doing?"

The boy was steadily gaining color to his cheeks; Fai thought he might stay awake for longer soon. None of them had any idea what sort of ailment he had—he hadn't been coughing or sneezing, or showing signs of strange spots or rashes. All the indication he'd presented since first collapsing were bouts of dizziness and fevers, and long stretches of unconsciousness.

"He's doing better," the girl smiled, wiping Syaoran's face down with a damp cloth. Her face fell the moment she glanced at their furred companion. "Mokona hasn't felt any better since yesterday, though."

Fai wandered into the room and stopped by the bedside, next to Sakura. Yuuko had not seemed troubled last night, when she heard about Mokona's condition, so he thought it safe to assume that she would recover at some point. "It's just been a day, Sakura-chan. Why don't we wait and give her a little more time?"

There was stark relief in her eyes; he felt compelled to smile back at her, to help soothe her worries.

"Now, how about we start making you some of those bleeding cloths? It doesn't look like Kuro-rin is hankering to go out hunting yet." Fai reached a hand out towards Sakura; she placed her fingers in his trustingly, with more gentleness than a person like him really deserved.

* * *

The idiot mage and the princess were in the kitchen, and Kurogane couldn't help but listen in on their chatter.

"You see, I thought it would be easier to wash them if we kept the cloths as flat sheets, and roll them up into a wad when you need to use them," the man was saying brightly. Kurogane had passed the doorway earlier; they had a bundle of white cloth spread out between them, as well as some thread and scissors to the side. "And I figured that it would be easiest to keep them in place with buttons on both ends, like so..."

"That's very similar to how it's done in Clow Country," Sakura told him warmly. Kurogane could already imagine the smile in her voice.

Why she chose to trust a liar like that, no one knew. The skinny twit was far too tight-lipped, adding more lies and secrets to his repertoire every time Kurogane looked at him. He was so fucking tired of those lies, and they didn't even have anything to do with him.

All the same... the mage was a good man at heart.

Kurogane could not turn a blind eye on the magic he'd witnessed hours ago, how the stupid blond had showed up with the princess, both unscathed save for the cut on his shoulder. It had been a defensive spell—he had seen it unfold from the bedroom upstairs while watching over the kid and white pork bun. The ebony swathe had shot towards him, closely followed by vivid purple runes of a language he couldn't understand, and the violet had cut the black off in a protective swirl.

He wasn't sure when exactly Fai sustained the cut on his shoulder—but he was damn positive that the princess was in true danger of some sort for the idiot to go all out to defend her. And he'd returned smelling like magic (sweet like his pastries), the scent of which still lingered about the house.

As if taunting Kurogane, for all the attraction that he'd been trying to stifle.

The idiot was probably blindsided by all the secrets he was mired in, and Kurogane wasn't certain what to think about how Fai's duality crawled beneath his skin. The mage was who the kids turned to for reassurance, supporting them when he could barely sustain himself, when all he did was run and hide and pretend to smile.

It was an aggravating train of thought, so Kurogane stalked out of the house, into the fresh breeze outside.

Word had spread about the treasures in the building, apparently. Through the day, there had been attacks upon the house by various ragtag burglars.

Kurogane had waited outside for them at first, early in the morning, heading off kids who didn't know whom they were up against. A quick patrol had him coming across some unconscious thugs, men he had sensed for a while during a fight with some others before their auras died down. It was as if there were an invisible force protecting the building, so he had hidden himself in one of the trees to investigate; it wasn't as if he couldn't come up behind intruders after.

His suspicions were confirmed when a couple of scrawny boys approached the house and attempted to surreptitiously pry a window open—they had been thrown backwards into unconsciousness, and that was that.

(Kurogane tried to open the window himself; nothing untoward had assaulted him.)

At first, he'd thought that Fai had bought the barrier off the witch. There were wards on the four corners of the building, that he could almost see if he tilted his head a certain way. But the minute writing on them was the same as what he'd seen on the notebook that Fai was so desperately trying to hide.

The mage had stayed up to create those wards. And he was trying to conceal the fact that he'd done anything to protect them all.

There was a tight, intense knot of feeling in Kurogane's chest that he didn't want to pick apart, so he returned into the house, and headed upstairs to the bedrooms. Syaoran was still sleeping next to Mokona; the other bedroom door was shut.

He figured that no one would mind if he spent some time in the midst of their hoard. Kurogane closed the door behind him.

Curiously enough, it didn't take him long to find that notebook—either Fai didn't expect him to go hunting for it, or he knew the mage better than he thought. It was shoved under the pillow on one of the beds, smelling very faintly of cinnamon.

Inside, there was a stack of torn pages, some intact, some not. Precise, neat runes covered each page, written with a steady hand. (He'd seen those long fingers, could imagine the mage with his head bent, brow crinkled in concentration, a contradictory picture to flapping hands and stupid smiles.) Looking at these runes was almost too intimate, because they showed him a side of Fai that Fai kept secret from everyone... a side that made him very real, very human.

(If that endeared him to Kurogane any, he wasn't acknowledging it.)

He hadn't the patience or knowledge to tell if the runes were the same between the pages, or what they were for, but Kurogane didn't particularly care, either. The mage's belongings were not something Kurogane should be rifling through.

Voices sounded outside the door.

With a little guilty beat of his heart, he shoved the pages back into the notebook, slid it back under the pillow and straightened, looking up just as the door opened.

"I have the most delightful collection of buttons," Fai chirped over his shoulder, before he froze at the sight of Kurogane. There was no missing the way his gaze flickered down to the pillow, and back up at Kurogane. In that split second before he covered it up with a grin, Fai had looked frightened, aghast, and reproachful all at once. "Kuro-wan, I wasn't expecting to see you in here!"

Kurogane shrugged awkwardly, glanced at the expectant countenance of the princess, which was glowing in the orange lamplight (it was past noon and the curtains had been shut tight since last night).

"I was just looking for something," he muttered, for lack of a better explanation.

The look on the blond's face turned a little sly, very nearly spiteful. He stepped into the room and waved the princess in. "Well, if you're looking for something to do, Sakura-chan needs a few more bleeding cloths, and more hands will get the work done quicker."

He hadn't wanted to, but the glance of pleased surprise from the princess sealed his agreement.

And so Kurogane found himself squeezed into the kitchen with Sakura and Fai, with a long stretch of cloth in front of him that he had no idea what to do with.

"Have you sewn in your life, Kuro-pon?" the mage asked sweetly, threading a needle with remarkable ease. To his right, Sakura had started on her piece of cloth, concentration scrawled through her face as she did something along the edges of the material.

Kurogane shrugged. His mother had been the one to mend tears in his clothes, and after, when he'd moved to Shirasagi Castle, he'd only patched his uniform with untidy stitches that were more suited to sewing bloody wounds up.

Fai clicked his tongue. "Well then, I guess I'll have to teach Big Puppy to sew as well."

He felt his hackles rise. "I'm not a puppy!"

The mage waved his outburst away, scooting closer with his chair. He handed a threaded needle to Kurogane; those slender fingers were cold when he took it from them. "See, Kuro-puu, you start to sew by pushing the needle into the cloth—"

"I fucking know how to sew!" Kurogane snapped, shoving the point of the needle into white fabric. The needle was awfully tiny between his fingers, and he couldn't imagine having the patience to do this on repeat, even if he had lain in wait for demons in situations a hell lot more uncomfortable than this.

Fai smiled patronizingly at him. "Well then, maybe you'll do better if Sakura-chan told you how you should sew, no?"

Kurogane could have killed the man.

He did absorb the instructions better when the princess pointed out where his stitches should go. Little barbed remarks, like _You should try to keep the stitches all the same size,_ and _You shouldn't space them so far apart,_ and _Is Kuro-pon bested by a mere little needle?_ came up time and again, and it really was for Sakura's sake that he saved all violence for later—he swore he would punch the idiot's skull in.

Somehow, Kurogane sat through it all. He reinforced the edges of the cloth with simple (messy) up-and-over stitches that were nothing like Fai's (beautiful) L-shaped ones, and the princess smiled encouragingly at him, brightening when he (miraculously) plodded through the entire border of the material (cotton, he learned). In between, Fai made a late lunch for them all, fed the invalids upstairs, and cleared the table so they could return to sewing.

He didn't ask what the bleeding cloths were for. (Back in Nihon, some of the kunoichi had to take a day or two off sometimes. Cramps, Souma had told him, and proceeded to explain in gory detail what that was all about.) Kurogane couldn't say he wanted to be a woman at all, but he did feel a little contrite that he hadn't been aware of Sakura's situation until _Fai_ had brought the issue up.

 _Damn mage._

* * *

In the end, they completed three bleeding cloths between themselves. Kurogane's looked the worst, if workable. Sakura's was decently neat, and the stitches on Fai's were so uniform that one would have been hard-pressed not to believe it was store-bought. All three cloths were sewn with buttons that the princess had picked out from Fai's collection—there were summer-sky blues and sunshine yellows and red like the ruby of Kurogane's eyes—an odd combination, if anyone asked the ninja's opinion of it.

Fai inspected all the cloths for workmanship, gave a hum of approval, tidied the kitchen, and promptly whisked Sakura away to wash the cloths, so they could dry and be ready for her use as soon as possible. They busied themselves with dinner next (how had the day slipped by so quickly?), and it was with much yawning and stretching that Fai declared he was ready for bed, an hour after sunset.

"Oi," Kurogane muttered, nudging the blond with a foot when the latter curled up on the floor outside the children's bedroom. "We haven't been out hunting today."

The mage cracked a glimmering blue eye open. "We can go tomorrow, Kuro-pon. It's late."

"It's not even midnight yet," he huffed. "Don't give me that crap."

"But my eyes are tired, don't you see?" he lilted, and squinted up at Kurogane for emphasis. "I won't be any good if I can't see straight."

There was something suspicious about Fai's behavior, that much Kurogane knew. (The notebook with spells still lingered at the forefront of his mind.) He decided to prod a little harder, to see how far the idiot would maintain this pretense. "Drink some tea and you'll be fine. I know you don't sleep much."

Fai pouted, wispy golden hair splayed out on his pillow. "But Kuro-pii, we've been sewing all day—surely you need some rest as well."

It was true that the sewing had sapped some of his alertness, and that closing his eyes for a bit would do them some good. He wasn't about to acknowledge that the other had a point, though, so Kurogane muttered and stalked downstairs, where he could spend a while in the shadowy living room.

Scarcely half an hour had passed before there came the light tread of feet on stairs.

Kurogane kept his breathing slow and even, and wondered if the mage was stupid enough to think he was asleep—they had been through too much danger at this point to willingly fall into deep slumber. Even so, he did not move, merely listened out for the way Fai padded quietly across the living room, paused for a moment, before slipping out of the front door with a quiet click.

He unfurled from his place on the floor. By the time Kurogane reached one of the windows by the door, Fai had already made his way to the end of the street, heading eastwards.

* * *

 _A/N: Enjoyed it? Didn't like it? Thought something could be improved upon? Do leave your thoughts in the reviews! :)_


	3. Part 3

_Final part to this series.. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did writing it :)_

 _Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle and its characters do not belong to me._

* * *

 **the sword to my shield**

 **(Part 3)**

The night air of Nagare was very slightly chilly, a welcome change from the closed atmosphere of the house they were staying in. It seeped through Fai's thin clothes, hardly warmed by the sparse yellow light of streetlamps that he encountered every so often.

Fai clutched the notebook to his chest, patting the pocket of his pants to ascertain that his ballpoint pen was still there, just in case he had to draw up more spells on the spot.

(Harnessing magical energy from his surroundings was really not something he wanted to deal with more than necessary—considering the ridiculous amount of time required to inscribe those runes, he was much better off running entirely... But Mokona and the kids were here, and there was no way he was going to abandon his means of transport. Which meant that he had to clean up the mess from protecting Sakura earlier.)

There was still a strong trace of cinnamon lingering by the time he arrived at the location where the protective dome had been. Fai winced. Spells always left a trace of magic behind, more intense with a powerful casting (and that spell he'd spun to shield the princess was one of his strongest). It meant that he had to get to work immediately; it had been hours since he'd cast it—who knew how long that same stretch of time was back in Celes?

He ignored the little bubble of panic that was back in his gut.

Quickly, he withdrew one of the torn pages from the notebook, before wedging the book under his arm to free his hands. Light was scarce where he stood in the shadow between two streetlamps. It wasn't as though he really needed it, however. Right in the middle of the tightly-packed runes was a blank square—Fai touched a fingertip to it, allowing just the faintest trace of his magic to leak onto the paper.

A pale blue glow swept along the lines of the runes and spread outward. He folded the spell sheet into a little paper bird and blew on it—the spell utilized wind energy—and watched on while the bird flapped its wings and took off, fluttering through the air as it caught the swelling breeze. As it flew, the remnants of magic began to diminish, slowly but certainly.

Fai repeated the process for the next four spells. His hands trembled with anticipation through the folding and releasing of the birds, and he twisted his fingers together after to hold them still. If he managed to wipe this world of his magic, he wouldn't have to face Ashura-ou anytime in the foreseeable future.

But as long as the traces weren't completely gone, his magic was still a beacon, and his beloved king could materialize right before him, begging for death that Fai couldn't bear to deliver.

Why would Ashura-ou ask such cruelty of him?

He thought about Kurogane, and figured that the ninja could grant such a wish with no hesitation. A wry smile twisted his lips; if he were Kurogane for a day...

"Oi."

Icy panic exploded in his chest; Fai gasped and started and whirled around, back-peddling a few paces. Familiar red eyes glowed at him—it was a full second before he remembered to smile, closed-eyed and closed-lipped with his hands held behind him. "Kuro-rin! I wasn't expecting to see you here!"

How had he not sensed the man's presence?

"What're you doing?" Kurogane watched him from the shadows, eyes flickering between the paper birds fluttering above them, the notebook, and Fai's face. "You said you were tired."

"I just needed some fresh air," Fai blathered nervously, backing further away from the other. Had Kuro-tan seen—

"Those birds." The ninja flicked a glance at them, and Fai suppressed a grimace. "What are they for?"

He tried smiling. "You ask me that as if I know, Kuro—"

"I saw you folding them." Kurogane advanced on him, no humor on his angular face. Fai gulped. (How long had Kuro-pon been watching?) "I'm asking again, mage, what are they for?"

"Nothing that concerns you," he mumbled, looked to the side. Left alone, the birds would follow the trail that his magic had left when he bade it fly across the distance to Sakura. "They're really not all that important."

Kurogane set a hand on the hilt of his sword. "If they aren't important, then that means I can cut them down."

And release all the magic they were storing?

"No!" Fai blurted, fear creeping back into his voice. He tried to remain calm. "That is, you don't need to waste energy on those little things, Kuro-chi. Why would a big man like you be—"

"You're always running scared." The look Kurogane cut towards him brooked no argument; he knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Really?" he tried to laugh, but it came out funny. Fai hated that the other man could read him so well, that he so easily brushed aside all the lies Fai was trying to weave. He didn't want to get close to any of them, damn it!

Kurogane folded his arms—if there were a wall behind him, he would have leaned back against it. "Will telling the truth hurt?"

"What's it to you?" It felt like the need to lie sputtered and gave out all at once, and Fai turned tiredly away from the ninja. Now that he wasn't in front of the children, and now that the only person he was with knew when he was lying anyway, it didn't seem worthwhile to try spinning falsehoods. Kurogane had that effect on him somehow.

"There's no point in lying." Kurogane tipped his head up, watching the fluttering birds as they headed further eastwards. "It'll come back to bite you in the end."

"Easy for you to say," Fai muttered, bitter. The price of lies had never really exceeded the cost of truth. (And the truth always hurt so much.)

The words hung between them for a while. Kurogane never looked back at him, so Fai lifted his gaze to the paper birds, watching as they swooped and soared above the low brick buildings.

It was... nice like this, when the larger man wasn't angling difficult (or loaded) questions at him. Kurogane's presence felt safe somehow—even though the man had no idea what Fai was running from, or why, he exuded a protective demeanor that almost was almost inviting, as if Fai could press in close, and forget for a while.

Forgetting was pleasant. Sort of like in Outo, where they had a routine, and all he really had to care about was baking cakes and fishing information from the patrons of the cafe. There was a different kind of forgetting too, one that involved heat and skin and alcohol—

"Booze would be nice," he remarked quietly, watching as the birds traveled further onward.

Kurogane grunted his agreement.

The thirst for liquor started out as a spark; by the time Fai began wandering after his paper birds, the hunger had grown into a craving.

"Say, Kuro-sama, what kind of wine do you think a place like this has?" he sang, licked his lips and daydreamed.

With each bit of ground the birds covered, Fai's unease settled by another fraction. Whatever stray wisps of magic absorbed was sealed within the birds and would not be sensed as long as the spell sheets were intact. The possibility that Ashura-ou would appear shrank, and Fai slowly relaxed.

Kurogane didn't answer his question. "Those birds aren't using your magic to fly."

By this point, Fai knew not to be surprised. He grinned lopsidedly. "Why would you say that?"

"I don't smell it on you."

It was an innocent statement (taken out of context, perhaps exceedingly intimate). But he had sniffed at Kurogane's clothes back in Outo, and the man had not minded...

"I need some wine," Fai decided. It was a good place as any to start. "Maybe Kuro-wan might smell better if he walked closer."

The ninja sent him a distrusting sidelong glance; Fai returned with a vague smile.

With Kurogane around, the hour or so it took the birds to gather his magic didn't seem all that lengthy, though Fai was filled with stark relief all the same when the five fluttering creations swooped back down to him, trying to absorb the magic that he innately possessed. It meant that there were no traces of his magic left in the air around them.

He cradled the birds close. Methodically, he took each one and unfolded it by tugging gently on its wing tips. When all five were captured and undone, he folded the pages together, before carefully tucking them into his pocket.

"That isn't your magic," Kurogane said again, watching him from the corner of his eye.

"Is Kuro-puppy curious?" Fai smiled, and stepped swiftly to the side before the larger man's fist could make contact with his head.

"I'm not a puppy," Kurogane growled. "And I didn't ask to help sew the princess's things, damn you."

"But you couldn't resist her smile, could you?" He sent the other a sharp grin, knew that Kurogane was just as susceptible to Sakura's delight as he was. "You're such a daddy, Kuro-pin."

The fist came flying towards his head again, and Fai fled, stretching his limbs backwards in a mockery of running from the ninja. This was fun, and fun helped occupy his thoughts. Fai liked it.

They didn't stop until they were standing in front of a convenience store, full of bright lights, cool air, and shelves of products.

"They must have booze in there," Fai suggested with conviction. At the mention of alcohol, Kurogane stopped his attempts at slaughter, and his intent to murder dissipated.

"Yeah." He stepped forward.

The bell chimed when they entered the shop—the liquor shelf was right at the very back.

Fai lit up at the rows upon rows of narrow-necked glass bottles. Booze was booze, even if he couldn't read the labels. "Which are we getting, Kuro-pon?"

"Nothing too sweet," was the response.

"Ah, that's fine, I guess." He wasn't too picky where it came to alcohol, as long as it wasn't too bitter, or sour.

They ended up getting five bottles, two large and three small, the first they've had money for in Nagare. Fai inwardly cringed at the price (it was a significant expense, that alcohol). They (Kurogane, really) would have to work twice as hard tomorrow.

Strange how they couldn't seem to agree on anything, save for the kids and booze.

The journey back to the house was quick, mainly because they both had long strides, and because neither wanted to spend any more time with all bottles of liquor screwed tightly shut. (Kurogane wouldn't allow Fai to begin drinking on the streets.)

The kitchen was where Fai found himself, seated across the table from Kurogane, sake cup in hand and warmth in his belly.

It was stranger yet how Kurogane didn't mind spending long periods of time across from him, downing mouthful after mouthful of colorless, clear sake, licking his lips so they glistened under the orange lamplight.

Fai stared, and swallowed.

He occupied himself with drinking (that, he could do exceptionally well) and talking about things that didn't concern him, like how the flowers were blooming, the trees were green, and the weather was so nice here—

"Shut up, mage." Kurogane tipped another mouthful back, reaching for one of the smaller bottles to pour himself another dose.

"Why would you want me to stop talking?" Fai sent him a silly grin, leaned closer across the table, lifting his cup of sake between them. "Don't you like hearing my voice, Kuro-sama?"

There was a pause, as if Kurogane were trying to decide on an answer, and Fai flushed at the implications of that. He shoved his cup in the other's face.

To his surprise, Kurogane took a sip from it.

He faltered, cast about for something to say, anything, and blurted, "Would you kill someone you love if they asked you to?"

If those red eyes sharpened, Fai wasn't acknowledging it. He smiled lightly, pointlessly, and moved his chair closer to Kurogane's side without looking at the man, pretending to slur just a little.

"Well, don't mind me, Kuro-tan, I was just wondering..." He tipped to the side, pressed his arm into Kurogane's, and let sheer warmth seep into his skin. The other man felt _good_.

Kurogane took the sake cup from his hand; Fai glanced at him in question, and had the briefest second to gasp before Kurogane's lips slanted over his, firm and demanding and—

He melted against the man, wound languid arms around his neck and leaned in.

Just for tonight, he really wanted to forget.

* * *

(It was easier in the dark (one of them had turned the kitchen light off), and they fumbled against the counters, hot heavy breaths and wet lips and calloused palms on muscle and groans when clothes hit the floor with muffled thumps.

In the dark, it was easy to pretend that the other was just another faceless stranger, slippery heat around turgid flesh and fingers grabbing at tufts of hair and hoarse, stifled gasps of want and need.

They didn't speak, not even after it ended.)

* * *

Kurogane watched the slumbering blond before him and wondered at how it was that the idiot looked his most honest when he was dead to the world.

* * *

Fai preferred to think that he was the first awake, scrambling up from where they'd somehow fallen gracelessly asleep on the tiled kitchen floor, clothes bunched up as pillows beneath their heads. He also preferred to think that Kurogane was still unconscious as he pulled his clothes back on hurriedly and screwed the metal caps back onto the bottles of alcohol, quietly setting them aside on the counter so it wouldn't look like they'd been drinking all night (at least to the kids).

He retreated into the second bedroom, found some spare clothing from another world so he could wash the ones he was wearing (they smelled like booze and sweat and Kurogane) and took a quick shower.

By the time he returned to the kitchen, Kurogane was nowhere to be found (Fai winced to think that the ninja might have woken up when he did—at least there had been no traitorous nightmares this time, no secrets slipping from his mouth).

All the same, he pulled a package of sausages out from the fridge, made pancake batter again, and some tea. The beverage helped ease his worries; as far as Fai was concerned, nothing happened between him and Kurogane last night.

Syaoran was the first one into the kitchen.

"Syaoran-kun!" Fai exclaimed, when the boy walked in blearily in his sleeping clothes, hair tousled but looking more alert than he had in the past few days. "How are you feeling?"

"Good morning, Fai-san," Syaoran answered with a wan smile. "I'm feeling much better, thank you."

"That's good to hear—Sakura-chan has been worried about you, you know." He smiled in relief, watching as the boy blushed. "Are you hungry?"

Syaoran nodded, took a seat at the table. (For a brief moment, Fai thought about liquor in little cups under orange lamplight, and shoved the thought from his mind.)

"I'm making breakfast right now—it'll be ready in a few minutes." He reached for his spatula to flip a pancake, then turned back to the boy. "Tea?"

"Yes, please. I'm sorry I inconvenienced all of you," Syaoran said apologetically, "What has been happening in this world?"

Fai drew a teacup from one of the cabinets, setting it in front of the boy before pouring a stream of steaming tea into it. Syaoran mirrored his smile. "There's no need to apologize. There's no feather in this world, but we're waiting for Mokona to recover right now."

"Mokona's ill too?" the boy asked, concern etched across his features.

He nodded. "Two days ago, shortly after you fell ill. At the moment, she's unable to store all the things we've been having her hold."

The look on Syaoran's face became one of uneasy curiosity. "Where are the things?"

"In the other bedroom," Fai answered dryly. He flashed a cheerful smile to keep the kid's spirits up. "Don't worry, though, aside from that, most other things are fine."

"Most things?" Syaoran echoed, brows drawing together.

Fai flipped another pancake, nudged the sizzling sausages over onto their other sides. The kitchen had already filled with the savory, smoky scent of meat, and he was looking forward to the food himself. "Well, Kuro-chan and I were attacked by this strange person two days ago. Then he targeted Sakura-chan and I yesterday."

Syaoran looked at him in horror, but the voice that spoke next came from the kitchen doorway.

"And how long were you planning to hide that from me, mage?" Kurogane muttered, stepping into the kitchen.

Fai froze at the stove. (He could feel both Kurogane and Syaoran staring into the back of his head.) His stomach twisted into tight, little knots. In the aftermath of the attack on him and Sakura, he hadn't wanted to give Kurogane more information to chew on—the man had seen his magic. The fewer questions Kurogane asked, the better off Fai figured he'd be.

"Well, Sakura-chan is perfectly fine, you know," he said brightly, turning and smiling at the other two. "I thought that, as long as she goes out with one of us, she'll be safe."

Syaoran nodded; Kurogane narrowed his eyes. He had that look about him, the one that said, _We'll talk more about this later._

Fai didn't want to talk to the ninja at all, if that were possible.

"Is he attacking us specifically?" Syaoran queried, looking between Fai and Kurogane.

Fai shrugged, smiled again. "I don't know, but as long as Kuro-puu's around, he'll protect us all, don't you think?"

The larger man scoffed. "There was an attack on the building last night. I found some unconscious thugs out back."

Syaoran frowned in confusion; Fai slid a deliberately-blank look at the ninja. "Oh?"

"I shook them awake and they left," Kurogane informed them gruffly. He paused for a while, as if hesitating, moments before he spoke again. "The plants are dead."

Fai gulped. He wandered over to the window and drew the blinds, mouth falling open when the sight of a brown backyard greeted him. It wasn't just the grass that had withered—it was the shrubs, the short apple trees, and even the dazzling orange-pink flowers that were in mid-bloom. "I wonder what happened," he said shakily, knowing exactly what had transpired.

There hadn't been enough stored energy in the building wards to repel attacks that were unexpectedly strong, and the wards had drawn on the life energy around the house to compensate, before enough power had been absorbed to be used against the next attack. (How could he not have foreseen this? Guilt whispered in his mind, lingering and latching onto his thoughts like a parasite.)

Kurogane was pinning him with another stare.

The scent of breakfast turned mildly acrid; Fai yelped and hurried back to the stove, grabbing his frying pans off the heat. "I'm sorry, Syaoran, you'll have to wait until I get the next pancakes done—these are burnt—"

"I'll eat them, Fai-san," Syaoran told him awkwardly, "You don't have to make more just for me."

He made a face at Kurogane. "Well, it's all Kuro-pon's fault," Fai concluded, sliding the pancakes onto a plate and spearing a sausage with a fork, setting it next to the pancakes to complete the presentation. In the background, Kurogane glowered. "The fruit's in the fridge if you have appetite for more."

"Thank you," the boy said with a grateful smile. "The food you cook is always delicious."

Fai grinned at him. (Both children had become the light of his life somehow, without any of them quite asking for it. Kurogane... was a different story.) He turned back to the stove, sliced another wedge of butter from the block sitting out, and waited for it to melt in the frying pan.

"Speaking of Mokona, Syaoran-kun, I'd really appreciate it if you and Sakura-chan could make a list of all the things we have in the other bedroom," he added, pouring more pancake batter onto the melted butter, "It'll help a lot if we know what we have and don't have, so we can prepare better for the next world."

The boy nodded, mouth occupied with food.

"And be careful when you walk in there, there may be broken glass around." Fai sent the ninja a reproachful look. "Kuro-pipi wasn't very careful when he went stomping around."

Kurogane bared his teeth. "It was your fault I stepped on those damn things—"

"You look even more like a dog when you do that, Kuro-wan," Fai interrupted, turning back to check on the pancakes, before dancing away when the ninja approached him. "You know better than to beg me for food—"

He skipped backwards when the other man's fist came a little too close to his head.

Syaoran watched in alarmed apprehension (like he and Sakura always did) when they danced around the kitchen table. Fai waved his wooden spatula at Kurogane; the man glared and leaped forward, hands fisted and deadly.

It probably shouldn't have surprised them when muffled explosions from outside shook the building.

Kurogane swore; Fai glanced out the window—the wards had not been been able to completely repel the attack if they could feel the trembling of the building around them. He should have tried to add more energy to the wards the moment Kurogane mentioned the dead plants.

"Syaoran-kun," he said urgently, even as Kurogane headed out of the kitchen. "Go upstairs and make sure that Sakura-chan and Mokona are safe."

The boy was already on his feet; he nodded, and Fai patted his pockets to feel for the sheets of captured magic from last night.

It really was no bombshell when he stepped out of the front door to find the very same cloaked figure on the building across the road. Masses of black swirled on both sides of the person, clouds of arrows ready to attack. Kurogane was nowhere to be seen.

Fai grit his teeth, kept an eye on the figure and its magical energy, even as he yanked the absorption spells out of his pocket and slapped them to the brickwork of the house. A pulse of magic from his palm pushed the spells into the barrier surrounding the building; when he released them, the pages turned dull grey and faded to ash, fluttering away on the wind.

"What're you waiting for?" The familiar shout came from above; Fai backed some feet away from the building to see Kurogane on the roof, both hands wrapped around Souhi's hilt. How had he got there so quickly?

There was no response from the figure, only a wave of tar-black arrows, like the first time they were assaulted.

" _Hama ryuu-ou jin!_ "

Cutting winds surged outwards from Kurogane's long sword; the arrows disappeared in the frenzy, and he widened his stance, ready for more.

With Kurogane around, Fai had the luxury of checking the integrity of the building structure. In the previous few minutes, the explosions had only managed to land large scorch marks and a few shallow gouges along the walls. There weren't enemies on the ground—Fai couldn't sense any—so he leaped lightly from windowsill to tree branch, making his way easily up onto the shale roof.

"Hyuu, Kuro-daddy is doing such a great job," he sang, bringing his hands together in a light round of applause.

"Don't give me that again," Kurogane snarled. (Fai thought he ought to feel honored that the man had even deigned to glance at him.)

(And with a distraction as large as this, there really was no space for any discussion about last night, or any of his other secrets, was there?)

"But you're strong enough to face him alone, aren't you?" Fai sang, tucked his hands behind his back. He stepped forward lightly, surveyed the scene in front of them. "Don't you think he ought to have given up by now?"

"Are you gonna fight?" The ninja flicked another glance at him; Fai merely shrugged and smiled.

If Kurogane could do this by himself, he sure as hell wasn't going to reach into his well of magic.

That had been his train of thought, until the figure raised a hand, and the new arrows that protruded from the cloud were red-tipped.

Fai had a moment to wonder why that was—Kurogane growled and aimed another strike at their assailant, who jumped sideways, high into the sky, and in between the ninja's attacks, the arrows sallied forth, sleek and rapid and bursting into flame as they sluiced through the air, splitting into groups that flew in the space between arcing blows. Kurogane snarled.

A handful landed in the withered garden in various spots around the house; Fai watched in numbed horror as brilliant orange fire razed through the dried plants towards the building, plumes of billowing grey smoke rising up around them.

"You can't hide like this!" Kurogane shouted, swinging his sword violently through the air; the winds he produced cut through the thick smoke, though the figure was no longer on the building across the road. And the garden was still burning all around them.

Sleek black arrows flew at them from behind; they dodged by bounding to the side. Fai felt his stomach clench when the inky streaks plowed through the roof, into the house itself. The barrier—

If there was someone he wasn't going to see getting hurt, it was the children.

He raised his arm, fingertip flying through the air as he etched string upon string of bright purple sigils. Magic crackled around him, fueled by fury, that anyone would try to attack the people he cared about.

First, he swept a magical barrier around the house and burning garden; second, a blanket of air without oxygen that gusted within the defense for a handful of heartbeats. It choked both the fire and the people in the barrier—Kurogane yelled at him the moment he allowed oxygen through again, though he wasn't really listening. The smoke that was trapped in with them made his eyes water; he drew an opening in the barrier and created wind to expel the smoke, so they could see once more.

The figure was on the roof of the house next to theirs this time. Fai clenched his jaw.

"He's mine," Kurogane yelled.

Fai acquiesced with a nod, changing the permissions on the barrier with a flick of his finger; the ninja leaped and slashed his whirling attack at the figure. It jumped again—this time, its hood fell away from its face.

Kyle Rondart smirked at them mid-leap, round glasses glinting as his dark ponytail streamed behind his head, malice glittering in his eyes. Kurogane stepped forward at the revelation; Fai felt a churning nausea roll through his gut. For Kyle Rondart to follow them through dimensions... It was a sick reminder of the man who was his master, whose face Fai had never even seen.

"You shouldn't be staying this long," Rondart sneered. "This is a final warning."

He raised his hand again, and the arrows that had landed in the (now-charred) garden exploded, well within Fai's defense, sending ebony shrapnel in all directions.

Fai swore, threw another barrier up—a smaller one around the building—and the arrows bounced off uselessly.

"Tut, tut, you might want to check inside the house," Rondart informed them helpfully, still with that snide smile.

Kurogane roared and unleashed another attack on him; a dark (familiar), swirling portal opened behind the man. Rondart stepped backwards into the void, and the gateway closed in front of him. Kurogane's blows flew harmlessly through empty air.

Fai wasn't concerned about that. His blood had run cold, and he was leaping off the roof, landing hard on the blackened front yard. Pain jolted through his feet where they contacted the ground; he didn't care. The door knob was still blazing hot when he wrenched the front door open, stumbling into the house and up the stairs. (One of his ankles was hurting—not _again_.) "Syaoran-kun! Sakura-chan! Mokona! Are you all right?"

Syaoran and Sakura hurried out of the bedroom, Mokona clasped to the princess's chest. "Fai-san!" they chorused, relief stark on their faces.

He felt himself sag when they rushed towards him, none the worse for wear. On impulse, he wrapped his arms around their shoulders and bent down, pulling them close to himself in a light hug. "I'm glad you're all right."

"We're glad you're fine too, Fai-san," Sakura told him earnestly. Syaoran nodded. "What about Kurogane-san?"

Steady footsteps trailed into the living room further down the stairs. Fai didn't have to turn to know that it was the ninja. He gave them a wry smile, and patted Mokona (who seemed to be feeling better) on the head. "Oh, you know Kuro-pon, he's just being his grumpy self—"

"The food's on fire," Kurogane called up the stairs.

Fai cringed and released the children, turning to hurry back to the kitchen. Of all things to suffer a casualty... He attempted to skip lightly down the stairs (it became more of a banister-clutching limp every alternate step) and turned at the landing, not meeting the larger man's eyes. "That's because you're so hot, Kuro-chan!"

Clearly, it was the wrong thing to say, because Kurogane didn't reply, and Fai concentrated on flipping the stove knobs off and dumping burning sausages and pancakes in the sink, turning the tap on. Little orange flames flickered out with a hiss. The bitter scent of charred food hung heavily in the air, mingling with smoky remnants of burnt plants in the yard. Fai maintained the barriers he'd cast—who knew when Rondart would be back?

He'd used his magic again. Was still using it. That was twice in this world now, and he really, really could do without Ashura-ou tracking him down—

Kurogane stepped into the doorway of the kitchen, blocking out his only path of escape. So Fai concentrated on cooling the frying pans down beneath running water, and tried to scrub the burnt food off so he could make breakfast again.

"We saw that man back in Jade Country," Kurogane said gruffly.

Fai didn't look at him. Instead, he gave a tiny shrug and said, tone subdued, "I think it was him, yes."

"Why was he here?"

The likely answer was because they'd overstayed their time in Nagare, a world without a feather, and the mastermind behind this whole journey wanted them to move on to the next world. But Fai couldn't say any of that without incurring suspicion, so he shrugged again. "I don't know, Kuro-pin, you should've asked him that, shouldn't you?"

The ninja snorted.

"But I think we should leave as soon as Mokona's ready," Fai continued. It would benefit all of them not to linger here—him especially. If Mokona still wasn't ready to leave in the next hour, Fai decided, he'd make more of those magic-absorption spells.

He turned to leave the kitchen (maybe the other man would let him through if he asked nicely enough?) and stopped short when he met Kurogane's eyes, fierce red rooting him to the spot.

Kurogane stepped closer. Each bit of distance he closed had Fai feeling as if he were prey, and he couldn't move.

"Back on the roof," the other man said quietly.

Fai remembered their other conversation, back when Rondart had first attacked them. _(You're a fucking embarrassment of a Shield, if it weren't for how much the kids like you, I would've killed you already.)_ "I shouldn't have done that."

Kurogane glared at him. "Shouldn't have what? Saved the kids?"

He flinched. "Well, it turns out that we didn't need that blood bond, right?" Fai deflected, facing away. "Everyone's safe, except the house—the landlord will want compensation, you know, we should—"

A large, warm hand shot out and grabbed his elbow, turning him back. "Last night—"

"Didn't happen," he finished firmly, looking resolutely at the cabinet to the right of Kurogane's shoulder. Strong fingers tightened around his arm.

There was no contempt in crimson eyes when Fai chanced a look back, only something hot and intense that he didn't want to name. His gaze skittered away.

Kurogane moved his lips, as if he were on the verge of saying something, though he stopped abruptly and kicked a chair out from beneath the table, forcing Fai onto it. "Your ankle's hurt."

He tried to stand again. "It's not such a big deal, you know, it's happened before—"

"We have ice for it," Kurogane informed him shortly. He crouched in front of Fai, rolled the pant-leg up over his sprained ankle, and turned at the sound of footsteps approaching.

"Fai-san—" Sakura paused at the doorway, worry creeping onto her face when they turned to look at her. "Your ankle—"

He smiled and waved at her. "Don't worry, it's just like in Outo, you know, I'll be fine soon enough."

Behind her, Syaoran looked on in concern, and Mokona hopped into Fai's lap. "Mokona is sorry that Fai got injured right when Mokona is recovering," the little creature said miserably.

Fai smiled again and patted her head. "Don't worry, Mokona. I'll be fine."

It was utterly wrong that any of them would even care about him, he who was a pawn of the mastermind of this entire journey, who would go on to betray them someday. Mokona looked sadly at him (he should probably stop feeling so guilty around her) and turned to hop onto Kurogane's shoulder.

She gave his face a hug with her stubby paws. "Kurogane..."

The ninja stared at her in bewilderment.

Fai didn't want to know why she looked so sad around Kurogane, so he turned towards the children with another grin. "Now that Mokona's feeling better, we should get the things in the other bedroom cleaned up, shouldn't we?" he asked brightly.

"But your ankle—" Sakura reminded him woefully.

"I'll be fine." Fai glanced at Mokona, who was looking back at him. "What do you think, Mokona?"

"Mokona will try her best!" the creature chirped. She bounded back into Sakura's hands, and Fai tried to stand to follow them. (Anything to get away from Kurogane, really.)

Kurogane pushed him firmly back onto the chair. "Sit."

He watched helplessly while the children trooped back up the stairs, feeling very much cornered. At least they'd be ready to leave after Mokona had taken all their items back into storage.

Kurogane filled a kitchen rag with ice from the freezer and returned to crouch by Fai's feet, pressing the bundle to his ankle.

"I didn't think you were so kind, Kuro-sama," he lilted.

The other man's fingers were warm when he reached down to take the ice—it did help soothe the ache some.

"Sake?" Kurogane offered; Fai brightened in surprise.

"Kuro-pon's being nice to me!" he crowed with a silly grin. "I wouldn't say no to booze."

The ninja clicked his tongue in annoyance; it was quiet for a while after, when he set the little cups between them on the table again, and dispensed a measure of alcohol.

Neither of them were looking at each other when Kurogane muttered, so quietly Fai had to strain his ears to hear him, "Cinnamon suits you."

Heat rushed through his cheeks like the earlier blaze; Fai was definitely not looking at Kurogane.

The other man drained his sake cup and stood (was he blushing?), and Fai looked sharply at the floor.

They didn't exchange another word as Kurogane stepped silently out of the kitchen, but something told Fai that last night wasn't the only instance they'd transgress those boundaries.

 **end**

* * *

 _A/N: I'm contemplating writing more of this dynamic (Fai has used magic and Kurogane has both eyes glued on him), be it in canon worlds or otherwise... thoughts/suggestions? :) Thank you for reading and reviewing!_


End file.
